Our companions,ÁrminiusVambé like ourselves, returned with empty hands from their search for water, of which not the slightest indication could be found. It was an appalling thought that the few drops of muddy dregs I still possessed would be used up to-day. That evening I ate a few pieces of bread soaked in boiling water, for I had heard that the water lost its bitter taste by boiling. I determined patiently to bear everything, for in comparison to many of my companions I had every reason to be satisfied with my condition, inasmuch as I was in good health and they were suffering a great deal from the consequences of their having drunk from the brackish water. Some of the Turkomans were suspected of having secreted a quantity of drinkable water. But to rely upon being supplied, in the desert, with water belonging to another person, would be the height of madness; and indeed any one wishing to borrow or to beg water in the desert is looked upon as demented. I had lost my appetite and could not swallow even a few bits of bread. I dropped on the ground, exhausted and weak, and pitied my hard fate, when all at once I saw every one rising and flocking around the kervanbashi, and some persons beckoning to me to join them with my canteen. The word "water" was enough to infuse new life into me; I jumped up from the ground I had been lying on, and on reaching the crowd I saw the kervanbashi dealing out about two glasses of clear sweet water to every member of the caravan. This brave Turkoman afterwards told us that for years he had been in the habit of storing away in secret places large quantities of water, to distribute it in times of great need, when every one is benefited by it. This is a great _sevab_ (pious act), for a Turkoman proverb says: "One drop of water given to the thirsting in the desert will wash away the sins of a hundred years."
It is just as hard to determine the greatness of such a good action as it is to describe the enjoyment afforded by one swallow of sweet water. My craving for food was gone, I did not feel any more hunger, and thought I could bear being without water for three days. As far as drinking was concerned I was all right again, but it had all gone wrong with my bread. From want of appetite and in a fit of indolence I thought that instead of using wood for fuel, which it took some time to get as it was at some distance, I would use camel's dung--the regular fuel of the desert--but of this too I had gathered rather less than was needed. I placed the dough into the hot ashes, but there was not heat enough to bake it into bread, even if it had been left there for a week. I quickly ran off to gather some wood, but it was quite dark when I returned. I immediately set to kindling a little fire, but no sooner was it perceived by the kervanbashi, than he called out to ask "If I wished to betray by the smoke our caravans to the enemy?" I had to put out the fire at once, and take with me the unleavened bread half done.